As much as I complain
About the bitter cold of winter
Of the layers
The heaviness
Of winter
The snow falling is a perfect time.
There is a peace
A remarkable silence
Clandestine hush
Room to think
And the sound of a shovel
Hard against the ground
Is one of my most comforting sounds
When it's night
Is when all of this is most perfect
And fleeting
Unless you can wake with
The secret continued
The hush and perfection
Still intact
Winter
And then they're was the day I almost died by a giant speeding snow plow...
To be continue...
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